From the Black God's Realm
by Aniloverl
Summary: It was the Black God's gift, it was the Black God's curse. After years in his realm you can see the world again....
1. Prologue

**This is a weird fic but there could be some interesting thoughts in it, if you wish to suggest a character, just say it in the review or PM me.**

Prologue

It was the Black God's gift, it was the Black God's curse. After years in his realm you could see the world again, look in on friends, children, siblings,parents, spouses, lovers and enemies.

For a day, look in on those you knew and know what has become of them. Were they married, how did she grow up, did they have kids, is she still grieving, was my murderer ever brought to justice, were they knighted?

In one day the Dark god lets you see the Earth as the Gods do, it may bring joy, it may bring pain.

**What do you think, I've been toying with this for a while, never got around to it.**


	2. Ozorne Muhassin Tashike

**Thanks for all the reviews**

When the Black God had first made his offer he was surprised. The god of death had offered him the chance to see what he had done in the world. The stormwing knew what he wanted to see when he looked, he wanted to see the traitor Salmalin dead, killed by another mage, and Veralidaine killed by the many Immortals that haunted the woods. He wanted to see Tortall ruined, hundreds, no thousands killed by the creatures his mistress had sent upon them.

The once man looked up the the cowled man beside him "How long?" his voice croaks out. The god answers in something beyond words, ten years. Ten years since the mages, and stormwings brought about his downfall. Draper had wanted to come back and he had agreed, when he saw his young companion he had used her without thinking that behind the shy common girl with no family to claim her there was a savage animal, many, with the power of the hag seeking out revenge for a man she loved.

Now his nephew was on the the throne, governing over nobles that add been loyal to _him_, not this youth, him. But, with a smug thought, he had married Kalasin, a Tortallan princess, that he had planned.

Pawns; that is what they all had been, people whose lives he could control, destroy in an instant. Slowly one by one his pawns had been lost to him. Many were killed, some he had he could use. He was wrong.

The scene changed again, this time to a summer clearing, this is what the Black God had wanted him to see. Veralidaine snuggled up to Numair as he leaned against a tree, a wedding ring on both their hands. Their daughter played with the dragonet Skysong. The mage shifted is hand to his wife's large stomach and whispered in her ear, she giggled.

The vision widened and the Emperor saw other people in the clearing. There were quite a few, interacting with each other like a large family, smiling, laughing, hugging and occasionally stealing each others food. Ozorne could name many of them and every person he recognized the more rage grew inside of him.

King Jonathan and Queen Thayet the peerless, his sworn enemies were both healthy and happy parents with a grand-daughter on the way. A young man who looked like a prince had a firm arm around a small Yamani, just showing the signs of pregnancy.

Lindhall Reed, his former teacher, a man he had trusted. He had left the minute he could and had his arm around a small woman, Kuri Reed, a voice said.

Both Gareths were there and Cythera was there, both happy, celebrating the end of the war like the rest of them.

The worst part of all was this sight. The fact that he had held no significant importance, he was the past. Something in the history books the pages learned in. Within a few years, the realm had recovered from his wrath. Life had gone on with out him the traitor was safe, at home, with a growing family, as was the wildmage safe in his arms.

**There we go my first character. Now tell me what you think.**


	3. Rikash Moonsword

Rikash Moonsword

Died: Immortals War

It's hard for a person to admit they are dead, it is harder for an immortal. Something that isn't designed to die, all immortals will die eventually, battle, birthing, an accident, but they do die.

It wasn't as bad as Rikash thought as he sailed over a clearing by the palace in Corus. He remembered it from when the dragons led them there in his final days. The war was won, that much was obvious, Tortall was still there.

He didn't know why the gods chose this day to free Rikash temporarily from his death, letting his invisible form fly on equally invisible currents.

Humans filed into the clearing with baskets of food, laughing merrily with animals circling around their feet. At the center of the mob were his favourite humans, Veralidaine Sarrasri and Numair Salmalin, "Veralidaine Salmalin" a voice corrected him, looks like they had finally gotten together, about time.

The stormwing alighted on a strong tree branch just as a small girl ran out of the mob and ran to look at the wolf pack on the edge of the meadow. She is a good pup and she's grown, very good. The wolf leader spoke.

She was definitely a wild-mage, Daine's daughter; well she was married to Salmalin. That whole family would be weird, guaranteed. He turned his head back to the crowd of people now in the middle of the clearing. Daine held a small bunble in her arms, obviously another child.

Everyone started talking suggesting names, for a son. Daine whispered something in Numairs ear, he smiled back at her "He would love that." The mage told her. Daine smiled and announced "His name is Rikash." Everyone in the meadow cheered, clapped the couple on the back and the women cooed at the little boy, passing him from arm to arm.

Rikash realized he was smiling uncontrollably; they had named their oldest son after him, a high honour indeed. He flew out of the tree and landed beside his friend, trying to see his namesake, no one responded to his arrival, not even flinching from the smell normally emanating off of him.

Of course, he was dead no one would see him again; not in the mortal realms at least. Sarra and Kitten ran through the grass, Sarralyn was obviously just learning to walk as she stumbled in the dirt, chasing Kitten.

Well maybe he wasn't completely dead.


	4. Hazarin Rittevon

**Listen up people, I am taking requests for characters but I wont do Sarra because she technically isn't dead. My list so far is Benek . Remember suggestions are welcome.**

**Disclaimer: If you think this is Tamora Pierce; you haven't read Tamora Pierce. **

Hazarin Ritteven

Hazarin Rittevon was never remembered as a person and he knew that, assuming any of his scum of a family had ever felt sorry for his death.

Too much fatty foods the healers had told him, that was the the official reason, in reality the king wanted to die, to get away from the snake pit of a court and the people in it. It's not like he wouldn't have died, it wasn't like he didn't know about Imajane looking up arcane death spells. Everyone had noticed the stormwings hovering outside his window.

His essence sailed over the capital and through the Kyprish Palace, it looked nicer. Everything was like when he had grown up, still some tapestries, although some of the ones about the conquest had been taken down. It was just the air of the place, servants, slaves, mages, nobles, merchants, all went about their business with a smile on their face. People were calm with the new regime, a kind ruler and a spy master that actually looked around, not just assuming everything to be a threat.

He remembered the little slave girl at his bedside when he died, a spirit just like him, she served Kyprioth and now picnicked with her family on the lawn with the queen, Dovasary.

Short reigns were not memorable, listed in archives, but forgotten. Maybe he would be known as one of the last Rittevons, but that was it.

Hazarin was perfectly content with his position and those of his family. Except Dunevon, although he surely would have grown up to be a tyrant under the guidance of his sister and brother-in-law. On any level it there was a chance he could have found happiness, but no, Rittevons were never happy.

His invisible form slowly faded, content with the fates of those around them.

**Sorry it looked longer on paper. Please review.**


	5. Ochobu Dodeka

**Well I had a request for someone who died in the chaotic, climatic battle in TQ so yeah, I will get Benek up soon****. I am also not sure who died in the end so yeah. Enjoy.**

Ochobu Dodeka

When Ochobu joined the resistance she knew that there was a chance she would die. It was a good death though, it was for something she believed in and was beneficial to everyone in the Isles. The Black God carried her spirit down to the front steps, with four grave stones.

Dying wasn't that bad actually, she was old and knew her time and Raka mages never messed with nature. At least she had taken four of that Luarin trash down with her and many more before she died.

The real thing that hurt were finding her sons and grand-daughters graves beside hers, with their names etched into the hard stone. Deep down she had loved her son, not that she'd admit it, and her Junai. When Ochobu had died ,her will, buried very, very deep in her work bag, had said to leave everything to Ulasim and his daughter, following the Raka custom of passing things on to the oldest child.

She walked through the walls of the Kyprish palace, what had once been a graveyard for Rittevon traitors now was ruled by an honest queen. Dove was just slipping through a door that was once Rubinyan's study.

"Aly," the queen reached out cautiously and poked the figure sleeping on the desk. So the little spy had survived. Aly looked up at Dove and blinked blankly "Nawat asked me to fetch you, he said all the 'nestlings' keep crying for their ma."

Alianne nodded and got up, after straightening her mound of papers she straightened her sarong and marched out the door, leaving the younger girl to follow in her wake. When they got to her room

two out of three children were sleeping, one of the children's lip quivered as though ready to cry.

The spy picked up the little boy and whispered "C'mon Ochobai go to sleep." Nawat took his son back as he finally went to sleep and put him back in the crib. Aly sighed and sank into a chair "He's as bad as his namesake."

They had named Ochobai after her that was ridiculous you didn't name people after those dead, it was bad luck and after her. She could throttle the girl for naming her son after her but her essence faded out of existence and back to the realm of the dead.

**Well that should be the end of my break. Welcome to FF flood the net day for fief goldenlake. The link is on my profile but you should check it out.**


	6. Benek

**Sorry about the delay, I blame exams and writers block and the Goldenlake Drabble Tournament. **

**Also thanks to my new beta reader Sarcastic Rabbit. Hopefully I'll get more writing done this summer. Enjoy**

**Disclaimer: If I were Tamora Pierce this would be published**

Benek

It was hard to accept death, Benek knew that. His wife had died years ago. Family and friends passed away as he grew older. People treated him as though he were dead when he stayed with Sarra instead of casting her out.

Not that there was anything wrong with the way they lived: he had a wonderful granddaughter. She was talented, and Benek knew she would be great if she could manage to get out of their village and find a new home. He now understood what was special about her, although the price of that knowledge was his death. The Black God's realm was actually very nice: he got to see his family and friends again, even if he missed Daine.

The Cowled God dropped Benek in a forest. The snow piled up to his thighs but the old man walked with ease, as if the snow didn't exist. The village in front of him was familiar. It was where he had grown up and died. Every building was exactly where he had seen it last. Some of the houses had a new coat of paint and small children playing outside who hadn't been born during his lifetime.

Benek turned to go home but the world spun. He was again in a forest, instead of the customary pines there were deciduous trees now bare of leaves. Instead of a small village, there was an empty road, curving upwards, unlike the village he had never seen it before. Up the hill he could see two people riding: men, guessing by their clothing.

Behind him, Benek heard a blood-curdling scream. He jumped. The two figures also looked up and, instead of running, kicked their horses into a gallop.

He could see the riders clearly now. One rode a spotted horse; he was very tall and dark in complexion. The other rider was, in fact, female and looked exactly like...

"Daine," he yelled, forgetting the danger. "I'm over here. Daine!" His words were carried off by the wind as his granddaughter pulled back her bow and loosed an arrow.

Her companion's hands glowed black and silver with fire, and the bolts he shot killed the spider-like creatures immediately.

Benek's mind froze as he recognized the creatures: spidrens. They reared and kept on coming. One particular female threw a thin wire of silk at Daine, it hissed as it flew through the air. Benek reached out to grab the silk but it flew through his hand, inches from her face it was engulfed in mage-fire.

Wheels turned in Benek's head as he tried to comprehend why there were spidrens in the world: creatures out of tales told to frighten children; but before he could find any lore in his memory, Daine and the man clambered out of their saddles, the man nearly falling, and went to check on the bloody corpses.

Benek followed Daine and watched as she cut the throat of a surviving spidren, efficiently killing it. She moved onto her next enemy. Before she could act, the creature spat up blood onto her hand. Daine cried out in pain, and her companion was immediately at her side, checking over her hand. The skin under the black blood was blistering and Benek could smell burning flesh. The mage dumped the contents of his water skin onto her hand and started to clean it.

Daine whimpered slightly, but the man kept a firm grip on her wrist to keep her still. The old man tried to grip her tiny hand in his as well but it passed through her as well. Leading her back to the horses, the mage started to wrap the wound in bandages. When he finished, he kissed her forehead lightly and started muttering to himself.

"Numair," Daine spoke. "Don't drain yourself; I'm not hauling you back to the nearest fief."

Numair grinned. "Nothing serious, love. Just going to burn these corpses. Then we'll go find a nice place to sleep."

The woman nodded and leaned against a spotted horse, watching calmly as the entire clearing burst into flames. Numair was obviously very powerful but gods help him if he flirted with his granddaughter.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Benek followed the pair for about an hour before they finally stopped to rest on the side of the road and eat. While Daine cleaned up, after the meal, Numair set up a bedroll.

_One_ bedroll. This was unacceptable! Numair was much older than Daine, and the man was only setting up one bedroll. What was he thinking? If he could have, Benek would have strangled the mage and taught him a lesson about flirting with his granddaughter!

Unlike her grandfather, who was still invisibly fuming, Daine happily snuggled into Numair's bedroll and let him wrap his arms around her. He gave her a kiss on the ear before tucking her beneath his chin.

At this, Benek began to feel his body fade and leave for the next realm. He yelled at the mage with all his waning strength, "You'd better take care of her!"

**Well thats all for now, I'm hoping to do Tristan Staghorn or one of the Contes next. Cheers.**


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